


Search History.

by BarPurple



Series: Sherlolly Against the World [27]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sex Toys, Sex on Furniture, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 21:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7122634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vanilla was a delicate, complex flavour, why on earth would anyone use that to mean boring?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Search History.

Sherlock knew he had to time this just right, he had a twenty second window and if he missed it he’d have to wait another forty-two minutes and that would be too close to midnight for the conversation he wanted to have to happen. There, that was his cue.

“Molly.”

He felt her slight twitch of surprise and her fingers left his hair as she reached for the remote. He knew she’d pressed pause when the music suddenly stopped.

“Sherlock?”

Her fingers returned to stroke his hair; for an instant he almost let himself get lost in the soothing sensation, but the question he’d wanted to ask spilled from his lips; “Are you satisfied with our sex life, Molly?”

Molly tilted her head and stared at Sherlock. He was, as he had been for the past few hours, lying on the sofa with his head in her lap, off in his Mind Palace while she watched Vikings. She’d been so caught up in Ragnar’s latest bloody battle that she’d not been aware of the mess her idle petting had made of his curls. She bit back a smile and considered Sherlock’s seemingly random question, not that she really had to think about that answer.

“I’m very satisfied with our sex life. Why do you ask?”

Sherlock’s eyes finally opened. He looked up at her for a moment before rapidly rolling from the sofa and bouncing to his feet to pace the floor. It never ceased to amaze her how he could go from statue like stillness to frantically energetic in the blink of an eye. She stretched her legs out and waited, if he needed to pace there was obviously something more to his question than curiosity.

“First I want you to know that I am happy with our sex life, delighted in fact, honestly never thought sex could be as amazingly satisfying as it is with you,” He paused on his route across the room to gauge her reaction and gave a small nod at the smile on her face, “I understand that what we do could be described as vanilla, though I find it odd that such a delicately complex flavour is used to denote plain,” he waved his hands in circles as he flapped away his tangent and got back on track, “If you want to experiment with some of the more colourful variations on sex then I’m happy to oblige.”

He halted again, his fingers twitching restlessly at his sides as he waited for her to say something. He looked like he was bracing himself for something uncomfortable. Molly took a slow breath and asked; “Why do you think I want to try any colourful variations?”

Now he looked a little guilty. 

“I didn’t mean to pry, but my laptop was in the bedroom, so I borrowed yours and you’d left the browser open on the research you been doing.”

Molly frowned as she tried to work out what the hell he was talking about. She tried to recall what she’d been looking up on line recently, oh, well yes that would have set him off on this train of thought.

“Sherlock, I wasn’t looking at those sex toys for us. I was curious after Shelly from A and E told me about a late night admission they had.”

Sherlock’s posture instantly changed from one of nervous tension to curiosity. She grinned at him as he sat cross legged on the coffee table waiting for her to elaborate.

“A chap had been using a glans ring,” she paused for a beat to see if he was going to ask what that was, but his perusal of her search history must have provided the information for him, “It was far too tight for him and got stuck, he’d panicked and tugged it off,” He snorted at her unintended euphemism, she rolled her eyes and carried on, “He torn his foreskin. Victor had to do some very delicate suture work to fix him up.”

Sherlock grimaced, either in sympathy or due to his imagination of the injury.

“To be honest the glans ring looked rather innocuous,” he tilted his head at her, “I’d be willing to try that one if you wanted too.”

Molly slid to the edge of the sofa and ran her hands over his pyjama clad thighs. He unfolded his long legs and planted his feet on the floor as she knelt between them.  
“I don’t think our sex life needs any extra spice,” Her thumbs were rubbing small circles tantalisingly close to his balls, “We’re spontaneous and passionate,” He moaned softly and leant back, his fingers curling around the edge of the coffee table as she ran her hands over his growing bulge, “And your cock doesn’t need any help to satisfy me.”

Her fingers caught the waistband of his pyjamas; Sherlock lifted his hips and sighed happily as she peeled his clothing from him. There was a slightly awkward moment as they worked his feet free, but Molly was smiling, he was convinced that she enjoyed making him lose his normal grace.

He wasn’t fully erect, but Molly licked her lips with a smile as she ran her hands slowly up his legs, her palms snagging and tugging on the hair the lightly covered his shins. He deliberately slowed his breathing as her hands came to rest on the inside of his knees, he responded to the gentle pressure she applied and let his legs sprawl open.

“I don’t think that vanilla is the right term for our sex life,” her words ghosted over his thighs as she shuffled into the vee of his legs, “It’s hardly vanilla to have shagged on every surface in the flat.”

“Almost every surface.”

Molly looked up at him from under her eyelashes, she was so close to his cock now, damn that was a gorgeous image; Molly coyly licking her lips inches away from his now very hard cock.

“You are right. We’ve not christened the coffee table yet.”

She ran the tip of her tongue along the thick vein on the underside of his cock and Sherlock’s brain gave up on listing the other surfaces they’d not made use of yet. She traced a wet trail around the head of his cock; a glans ring would get in the way of that, nope, never using one of those things. He let out a shuddering sigh as she sucked him into her mouth.

Sherlock had tried to catalogue every wickedly wonderful thing Molly did to him with her mouth, but the technical details were still incomplete, his brain refused to focus on those when there were such intoxicating sensations to enjoy.

He lost all track of time, but was certain that it hadn’t been long enough when Molly pulled away from his cock with a wet pop. The sound he made was a whimper, simply because there wasn’t a better word to describe it. Any trace of disappointment vanished as Molly, oh naked Molly, (when had she stripped off?), straddled his lap. They both froze as the coffee table gave an ominous creak.

“Do you think it’ll hold?”

Molly’s wet heat was brushing the tip of his cock, he considered for a second about tipping them on to the known safety of the sofa, nope wasn’t going to happen, his legs were shaking too much to risk the manoeuvre, instead he gave he a grin; “Let’s find out.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her down on to his cock. They groaned in unison as they came together. Sherlock braced his arms on the table again as Molly gripped his shoulders and rode him like a pony, ridiculous phrase.

“The things you do to me, Molly.”

“Thinking nonsense again?”

“Yes, oh fuck yes!”

Some small part of his brain that was still capable of observing noted that their sex noise was being accompanied by an increasing cracking sound. It was over ruled as unimportant, which turned out to be a bit of a mistake.

He arched up as she ground down as they came; the coffee table lurched to the left as the leg splintered. Sherlock managed to grab Molly and threw himself to the right in an attempt to stop them hitting the floor hard. It sort of worked; they slid down the now angled surface of the defeated table and landed with a gentle thump on the carpet.

“Did we just christen the coffee table, or give it the last rites?”

Sherlock kissed the grin off Molly’s face.

 

_Why is Mrs H texted me about a broken coffee table landing on her bins? -JW_

_No idea, the old dear must be imagining things – SH_

_Fibbing much? Need a lift to Ikea? - JW_

_Nope. Already ordered a more sturdy replacement. – SH_

_What do you do to the old one? – JW_

_Is your ban on hearing details of my sex life still in effect? – SH_

_YES! – JW_

_Then I can’t tell you what happened to the coffee table. - SH_


End file.
